


Into the New World

by lrviolet



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Family, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Next Generation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 19:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5304086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrviolet/pseuds/lrviolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some drabbles in the lives and times of the next generation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One where Shikadai Gets a Crush

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist writing about them, like you know Kishimoto could've just ended it with Chapter 699 but noooo he had to make little babies for everyone and now it's just harder to move on from the series. I need help /screams/ 
> 
> Cross-posted to FF.net.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Nara men are most often cowards when facing the woman they like, Aunt Ino comes to little Shikadai's rescue.

Family dinners were something a certain Nara Shikadai looked forward to for three reasons: one, that meant the Yamanakas and Akimichis would be eating with them; two, his dad would be home from work earlier than usual and drink with his old teammates; and three, Inojin (and sometimes Chouchou) would be staying the night in the Nara compound.

After a lengthy day at the academy, the trio, the 17th Ino-Shika-Cho generation, rushed through the front door of the building, causing such an uproar that the Yamanaka head emerged into the hallway, gritting her teeth at their presence.

“For Kami’s sake,” she said, unable to finish her sentence.

“Hey mom,” Inojin started, his blue eyes reflecting his mother’s. “I get to stay overnight, right? We’re on a mission to beat the Red Dragon King.” He shook his plaything device, the newest toy in stores this season – Sai bought it for him a while back despite Ino’s dissenting verdict. His focus would be diverted into playing instead of training or learning the basics at the Academy, she said. And of course, Ino was _always_ right.

Temari was suddenly at her side, eyeing them. “Shikadai, you’re having friends over but your room is a total mess. Expecting someone else to clean up after you?”

He shrugged. “It’s not _that_ messy.”

“Listen to your mother, Shikadai,” grunted Shikamaru from the other room, approaching them. “I don’t want any noise for tonight’s dinner. We have guests.”

“Inojin and Chouchou aren’t guests, they’re family,” he responded, rolling his eyes.

“Your father wasn’t talking about them,” Chouji, that funny uncle, Chouchou’s dad, added, dawdling next to Shikamaru and almost winking at the three of them as if there was a secret passed around that they didn’t know of.

Chouchou’s eyes glistened. “Is the Hokage coming over?” Because honestly, there wasn’t a single girl in Konoha who didn’t find the Hokage the most attractive person on the planet, Chouchou would reason out.

Inojin grinned at this. “If he’s coming, that means Boruto is too. And if he’ll be joining us –” he gazed at Shikadai who was also thinking of the same thing, “–we’re going to drop Chouchou out of the game, and have Boruto for the three-man ambush instead. We’ll beat the Red Dragon King faster and earn extra points for the time –”

“Hey!”

Already knowing this will end with the two boys at the mercy of Chouchou’s enlarged fists, Shikamaru sighed. “Unfortunately I wasn’t referring to the Lord Seventh. In fact, you’ll see in a few minutes. Right now, I want everyone to be on their best behavior.” He glanced at his son, completely uninterested at all this dull gatherings when he had zero knowledge socializing with other people outside the extended family tree. “You’re at least gonna try, right, Shikadai?”

 

 

 

When Kurenai appeared with Mirai suddenly in front of the Nara compound, greeted by the head of the clan and escorted into the dining area, gathered by everyone, Shikadai began to retreat out, displeasing his mother almost instantly.

“Shikadai, come here and greet our guests,” she called tonelessly, giving even Shikamaru the shivers that trouble was brewing. He was still at the doorway when everyone found their seats, animatedly exchanging dialogue about how they’ve been or how was the last mission. Inojin and Chouchou argued a little about who was going to sit in the middle and just decided it to be Shikadai.

Shikadai, on the other hand, couldn’t look back. “I’m kinda not that hungry anyway, Mom.”

Before another retort from his mother, standing up, Ino laid a hand on her arm, a smile almost telling that she’s going to handle this herself while Temari could make sure to be a welcoming host to the visitors. She seemed to understand almost instantly from Temari’s nervous twitch (she’s hardly ever nervous around people, Ino noted) that it was the first time she was meeting Kurenai and her daughter, anyway.

Though slightly opened, she knocked on the boy’s door, receiving a _go away_ from the child. She cleared her throat, slipping inside the room easily. “It’s aunt Ino.”

Shikadai didn’t bother acknowledging her in, but she kneeled to be on his level. “Now what’s this about, huh?”

“Girls are troublesome.”

Ino flicked a finger on his forehead. “Any more of that and you’ll be sounding like your father when he was your age.”

“Well, I mean they really are!” he cried, shamelessly revealing the circumstance. “First they act like you’re friends and then give you hugs and kisses then the next time they’re ultimately avoiding you like you did something wrong and to the best of my memory I haven’t done anything stupid. We’re not mind readers, save for you and Inojin sometimes, but geez would it kill them to say what they mean and mean what they say and do what they mean and say? That’s not particularly hard?”

“Whoa, okay hold on, that’s a lot to take in!” Ino chuckled despite this. “How is this connected with you not wanting dinner? Unless…” When it hit her, her eyes twinkled and Shikadai blushed as red as a tomato and she let out a hearty laugh, clasping him in a strong hug. “Alright, I get it.”

Shikadai looked up. “You do?”

Ino just nodded, taking his hand. “Come on, leave it to Auntie Ino. It’s also not fair if you can’t at least have a taste of the best Akimichi Stew courtesy of Karui just because someone else is down there you’ve been so eager to avoid.”

 

 

 

Shikadai entered the bustling dining area, called first by Chouji to sit next to him and he did, because Mirai happened to be seated on the other side. He didn’t avoid Temari’s glare however, ever so slightly pointing out that he would take in a long lecture after this meal.

“Where’s Ino?” she asked.

“Aunt Ino said she needed something so she ran off for now,” Shikadai replied, grinning at both his parents which surprised the two a little at the sudden change.

Mirai, her hair shorter than Shikadai had remembered it, finally smiled at him. “Hey Shikadai? How’ve you been?”

He gave off such a vibrant smile; his teal eyes betraying nothing but confidence and for some reason Shikamaru instantly caught on what was going on. “I’ve been fine. Congrats on passing the chuunin exams. I can’t believe you’re already a chuunin!”

“I can’t either,” she said. “What I can’t believe is dad’s entire old team would gather just to celebrate it. I mean, I could never understand why adults always bother to do it. They must miss drinking with each other.”

“I honestly don’t get it either, but I’m glad you’re here. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other,” Shikadai agreed leaning in to whisper it, and Mirai’s cheeks unmistakably went red afterwards.

She meekly threw a small smile. “Listen, you want to have ramen with me next week? They’re already sending me off to a solo mission. You can bring Inojin or Chouchou if you want. Honestly, it’ll be my treat!”

“Like a date then?” Shikadai wondered, suddenly twitching and face expression getting distorted.  “I mean, yeah, sure?”

“Great,” Mirai said, still blushing. “You’re acting pretty weird though. Everything alright?”

For a certain moment, he was silent, almost like he just lost himself. A second later, with his head down, Shikadai nodded, shrugging a lazy sigh. “Family dinners are such a total drag.” She laughed at this.

“He’s actually socializing,” Temari whispered to her husband, still observing their son interacting with Kurenai’s little chuunin. “I don’t know how she does it, but Ino’s a miracle worker.”

Shikamaru didn’t bother to say otherwise because as if on cue, the other blonde, his teammate for more than thirty years, entered once more, carrying herself like she had no idea someone else would actually catch on. She passed by Shikadai, where the boy turned and they secretly shared a fist bump, before Ino found her seat next to Inojin. “The store didn’t have the aspirin I needed. I should’ve dropped by at the clinic first before coming over.”

Shikamaru grimaced, requesting for Ino to come over. She did as asked, grinning and quite pleased with herself.

“Did you just use mind transfer on my kid?”

Her smiled confirmed it long before she even began explaining safely. “What are you talking about, Shikamaru? I just landed him a date with Asuma sensei’s daughter.”

Shikamaru tried scowling, he tried really, but for some reason even Temari found it amusing. “You do understand that she’s five years older than Shikadai, right?”

“Never stopped you from marrying older women either,” she winked at Temari, who was already shaking her head in sheer hilarity. “What can I say? Liking older girls must be a Nara thing, eh?”

Despite the struggle to hide his disapproval of her matchmaking drama and denial behind a fetish for older women, Shikamaru laughed and poured Ino a glass of sake.


	2. The One where Sarada Earns a Praise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because of wanting to forge an even better bond with her father, Sarada gets on his good side by proving how worthy she was of her last name.

It didn’t happen as often but when Sarada had been younger, sometimes Sakura was assigned to missions that took her weeks away from Konoha. Usually she would find herself waking up at the Yamanaka household, or on numerous occasions, next to Uzumaki Himawari.

This time, as already a genin and under the watchful eye of her almost-estranged father, Sarada’s never been so excited her mom was to leave –not that she wasn’t worried about her mom’s safety, but because Sarada knew fully, how Sakura would be capable. She believed that Lord Seventh wouldn’t give her mom such a mission if it will cause her demise.

“Good morning, papa,” she mumbled as she entered the kitchen of their small apartment, dragging both of her feet on the tiled floor. They moved in a few months earlier, to which Sasuke merely let out a short sigh of disappointment at Sakura – it had been the third time they had to move in the past twelve years. And Sarada hadn’t even graduated from the Academy then.

He murmured a response but Sarada couldn’t be too sure. After climbing into her seat, she beamed brightly at her father. Sasuke seemed unfazed, but he looked up, eyes shooting her a questioning look.

“Papa,” she said. “If I lose to Boruto, will you disown me?”

He managed a smile, how her thoughts seemed to run slightly amok at this time of the day. “If it ever comes to that, disowning the only heir is not an option that suits my taste.”

She scratched her head, shyly looking away. “We were training yesterday and I _kinda_ slipped. My sharingan failed to see through his tricks and he didn’t give me the chance to counter attack his blows. I fell off the hill, and I think I broke my left leg. Don’t tell mama.”

“I won’t,” he promised, or at least he sounded like he would be keeping it before he added, “Did you see a medic after sparring?”

Biting her lips and unable to gaze at her father’s knowing stare, she shook her head. “No, but that’s ‘cause it didn’t hurt yesterday. When I woke up earlier I couldn’t walk that well, like every step started becoming awful.”

He silently finished his cup of coffee. “Eat and afterwards, we’ll head to a clinic.”

“But papa, they might tell mama I’ve gotten hurt again and make her worry while she’s away and I don’t want her to keep worrying about me. I’m bound to get hurt more in higher ranked missions. It’s expected. This sprain or whatever this is, is insignificant compared to times when I’ll be facing death, right?”

Sasuke appeared as though he agreed yet displayed not a tiny hint that his earlier instruction would be repealed. Instead, he carried his plate towards the sink as quietly, along with his mug that said in red: **_“Best Dad in the World”_** – a mocking welcome home present from Naruto.

Sarada hastened when she saw her father already at the doorway, picking up his coat. For a man of few words, his actions triggered a discomfort only to a daughter he had likely not been spending that much time with compared to a special tutelage requested by his best friend’s firstborn.

“Papa, you know mama’s friends with all the medical-nins at the clinic and they’ll be sure to tell –”

“That is true,” he cut her off, as she rushed putting on her forehead protector. “I won’t tell her so somebody else might as well. Hiding secrets from your mother is not something I will comply and tolerate, especially when it involves your well-being, Sarada.”

“You’re just scared mom will knock you unconscious after finding out you didn’t know about me falling off a cliff.” Sarada teased scathingly, waiting for her father to crack, he did, just a smirk that could really mean anything, so she gave up, because reading fathers who have been away for most of their daughters’ lives was not part of Sarada’s basic training in the academy.

She sighed, limping now across the room. “Will you train with Boruto today? Don’t be too hard on him just because he won, okay? He has been trying to compensate for that cheating incident.”

“No, we won’t be meeting today,” he answered, shocking his daughter. He let her climb his back, otherwise letting her walk on her own prompted a bad father image and that was the only thing he didn’t want to beat Naruto at.

“You’re going to miss it because of me? But papa, Boruto is always excited training under you,” Sarada said, slightly uncomfortable with this. She was almost thirteen and if her friends saw her piggyback riding on her dad, they’d obviously make a whole controversy about not deserving to graduate when she can’t even walk herself. What a baby.

“It can’t be helped,” he gazed at her sideways, poking her forehead, “because we’re the ones training today.”

 

 

 

It turned out to be a small fracture in her mid-calf, which was quickly fixed by the ones at the hospital. She looked like a new doctor too, that medic-nin, Sarada noted, because for some reason she kept staring at her father instead, with eyes filled with hearts darting in his direction alone. She must be a substitute, a part-timer, or an intern. Knowing her mother would not approve, Sarada glared constantly after uttering her thanks, and they left to start training.

If anyone asked, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited. Hell, she was more than thrilled to know her father would personally assist in enhancing her skills today. She’d never admitted how jealous she was at some point that Boruto had her dad all to himself prior to the chuunin exams but that seemed fair – the hokage’s son was far below expectations and she wouldn’t want to compete when they happened to be on the same team after all.

“Papa, competition amongst the squad is normal, right?”

Sasuke gave her a nod. “It makes the team stronger. Each one will constantly want to beat the other. Keep in mind however that your goals should remain on the same path. That way, competing against the other will strengthen the squad, not ruin it.”

She didn’t want to ask about what happen with his team when he was a genin, and she rarely had the liberty to when Sasuke activated his sharingan, leaping into the air and weaving hand signs. “Fire release: Grand Fireball Technique!” She blinked for a second, realizing her sharingan had already been active as the jutsu assaulted, and the hand signs now seen in slower motion and committed to her memory. Tailing it proved harder since Sasuke only made use of a single hand and the half of which were some farfetched guesses. She watched the nature transformation of the chakra control precisely sending a string of consecutive fireballs in her direction, missing her but creating dents of craters on the ground.

She drew out countless shuriken, hastily targeting him without the intent to inflict pain. He noticed this and shouted, “Stop holding back! I’m sure your mother can patch us up easily after this.”

“Mama’s not here! We’ll have to go back to that flirty nurse and I don’t like her at all!”

Easily dodging her weapons, Sasuke charged once more in her direction, sending a high kick. She evaded this, then continuous taijutsu ensued between the two Uchihas, Sarada tensed and well aware that her father was beyond kage’s rank in terms of skills and was in every way the one going easy on her.

Once out of his reach, she took this to heart, hastily mimicking the hand signs he produced earlier with the use of her sharingan, and then breathed in, acknowledging that the fine chakra control had to be when she inhaled enough air, to fuel the transformation into an element of nature. At a distant, Sasuke looked like he was waiting, a smile painted on his unscathed face.

She blew, able to yield a couple of smaller fireballs for mid-range attack headed for his direction. They disintegrated after he used his inferno style, black flame evaporating the entire balls and she collapsed on her knees, breathing heavily at her already extensive use of chakra release. Disappointed with herself, she punched the ground as a deliberate end to their sparring.

“I’m impressed,” Sasuke finally spoke, nearing her with his usual passive demeanor. “You’ve managed to copy the fireball technique despite the lacking hand signs. Although you need work channeling the chakra consumption. You look too exhausted to even do another one. The shurikenjutsu was a reckless defense but still reliable, I’ll give you that. After a fire release attack, both you and your enemy’s vision are blurred with the smoke – the time to attack was a perfect distraction, unless they have doujutsu in which case, I do, so that attack was rendered useless. You’ve used your sharingan to an advantage, although it would have been easier to cast genjutsu with your remaining energy. That last punch I’d take was your parting gift to the opponent, who had least expected the attack seeing you already on your knees. Overall, well done.”

Despite the pain starting to sear up her limbs, she grinned, holding a thumb out. “The fireball technique is an inherent skill mastered quickly by any Uchiha, correct?”

“Hence, the reason for my praise,” he nudged her forehead backwards with a smile, holding his hand out as he stood up and pulled her up. They started walking together, Sarada leaning to her papa’s side inside his coat happily; in return, he allowed her to consume that personal space by holding her shoulder.

“We’re going to polish my fireball technique tomorrow, right?” She asked with such a hope in her voice it almost reminded Sasuke of Naruto’s, but then again, she’s been announcing her interest of being hokage one day.

“Your mother might not approve,” Sasuke responded. “She asked me not to teach you anything until you’re a chuunin.”

“Was it a promise on your part?” Sarada inquired, half-romanticizing her parents’ unprecedented love, half-praying that it just wasn’t a promise Sasuke would have to break.

Sasuke did not respond, so she took it as a sign not to venture further into such subject matter.

“I know, I know,” she sighed, looking at her sandals as they walked. She deepened her voice, to mimic his own in adding: “ _Hiding secrets from your mother is not something I will comply and tolerate, especially when it involves your well-being, Sarada!”_

He eventually grinned at this, amused to the point that he stopped and bent down to her level, again affectionately planting two fingers on her forehead. “A little patience, Sarada. There’s always next time, and that next time isn’t far from now either.”


	3. The One where Himawari becomes Chuunin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because everything's distinctly familiar, he decides that Himawari’s pieces, to quirks and verbal tic if any, are products from everyone else bounded to her by love and blood.

_Things are going too fast_ , Naruto decides, authenticating now the new promotions at his desk with his signature. My, my, wasn’t it just yesterday when Boruto stepped up the ranks as well? Now his second child’s qualification proves just how much, in a few more years, surely, his children will eventually surpass him (he only took the chuunin exams twice, then failed, making him a genin ever since if he hadn’t been a kage now). It makes Naruto smile sadly, how much they’ve grown, how much Boruto is a splitting image of the Orange Hokage, and regret every second he’d been driven away to work day and night for the Leaf Village and sacrifice what otherwise would have been what he always dreamed of as child. A real _family_. And he couldn’t even manage to attend their graduation ceremonies without being the prime officiating head.

Maybe it’s Boruto’s rebellious stage rubbing off, but Naruto exhales a little too resentfully, eyes welling up with some salty tears.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir, but someone’s here to see you.” Shikamaru, looking like an old geezer each day, knocks on his opened door, and Naruto nods, blinking swiftly, hand gesturing a ‘carry on’.

To his surprise, Naruto gawks at his daughter walking in, wearing that green typical flak jacket expected for the shinobi who just earned a level up, her hair tied in a low loose ponytail with two fringes in the front bordering her otherwise paling face. Her forehead protector clings to, well, her forehead and at a very awe-striking phenomenon for a split second, Naruto sees Kushina, his mother, in the way a mischievous smile falls on Himawari’s lips.

“Lord Seventh.” She bows at him, and then as he stands from his seat, she grins widely, tight and awfully like Naruto’s with the whiskers that mark her cheeks. “Hey, Dad.”

“What do I owe the presence of the top kunoichi in this year’s chuunin exams, hm?”

Averting his stare, she looks down, fidgets her hands at the acknowledgment, embarrassed but in the least proud – right there, he recognizes the patent habit as his wife’s when she had been about Himawari’s age.

She gazes at him now, smiling. “A father, perhaps, at tonight’s party?” Her shoulders slacken when she realizes she’s caught Naruto’s undivided attention now. “Mom decides to throw one at the last minute and I know you’re busy but Boruto’s being half an ass about how you’ll blow us off and I said he should give you a break because you’re the hokage, and you hardly get breaks, so it’s normal and then he was –”

“Okay, sweetie but –”

“ – totally being mean to me because he never got a congratulatory party when he became chuunin and tells me I’m obviously the favorite child, ever since I was able to activate my byakugan, like that’s a big deal to his already depleted ego. But really, he said he won’t bother showing up tonight because of his training with Uncle Sasuke, which I think is just an excuse not –”

Naruto flinches, overwhelmed, leaning back. Sasuke once said that Naruto could talk forever and for an idiot, he sure knew how to string his ideas into one hell of a sentence that expressed a complaint simply answerable by yes and no. The hokage gulps. “Yes, Himawari-chan, I’ll –”

“– to show up, in case you did show up, and I really hope that you do, Dad.” Her back straightens after the monologue, eyes losing the flaring excitement earlier, then crossing her arms in wait for his answer, patiently, yet at the same time, coercing: a rather formidable personality from Neji, Naruto muses.

Himawari’s pieces, to quirks and verbal tic if any, are products from everyone else bounded to her by love and blood. After coming to terms with it, Naruto requests she comes closer; once at his side, he locks her into a squeeze no shorter than a minute, patting her head, gently and affectionately, like the first time he tucked her into bed.

When he moves away, Himawari looks startled, impressed even but then again, Naruto always does.

Her father beams. “I won’t miss it, Hima-chan.”


	4. The One where Inojin paints the Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because he wanted to impress Mommy with his art, he picks the kitchen as his first canvas.

Inojin is four years old when he accidentally finds Daddy’s ink from one of his study and takes it to the living room. Mommy works at the hospital for her shift, Daddy on a mission, and babysitter Yamato is asleep on the couch. The television runs an episode of his favorite cartoon, but it’s something Inojin has already watched a million times before.

Daddy always makes beautiful portraits of various things: it includes landscape and forest terrains, sometimes the dogs and cats that wander in their backyard, their _backyard_ , and mostly just Mommy and Inojin. Mommy smiles the most when he draws them. Says it’s a way of him showing his love. He wants to be like Daddy, wants to show Mommy that he too loves her very much and can draw just as good.

He has seen Daddy draw before, but with a brush, he noncommittally remembers. Where is Daddy’s brush? It can’t be separated from the ink when it’s Daddy’s favorite tool. Inojin raids the topmost unlocked drawer, on his toes, searching ceaselessly but to no avail.

The young Yamanaka, with pursed lips and a rather fueled mind, decides he can’t wait anymore for Daddy to tell him where he’s kept the rest of his spare brushes. Babysitter Yamato won’t be able to find it either, so it will be pointless to wake him up.

He picks the kitchen first – because Mommy always heads straight to the kitchen after work to prepare dinner. The child grabs a stool and climbs up, opens the jar of blank ink, then dips his finger. Sticky, but in a good way, he tells himself, before ardently reaching for the wall and scrawling random characters. He just started to learn his letters, since Mommy never lets him go to bed without studying his fundamentals. Inojin beams as he writes what he’s learned – won’t Mommy be proud?

When he runs out of what else to put, and the space still begs to be made an entire canvas, Inojin playfully splashes more ink into his palm, blackness oozing in the curves of his fingers and falling onto the tiled floor. Oops, Mommy doesn’t like that sort of mess. He will clean up _after_ he’s done.

Inojin rounds each wall with both of his palms pressed on to it, and prints the kitchen walls with his tiny hands. He decides he will have to do better than this same old pattern. All of a sudden, a cartoon protagonist runs through his head, making Inojin think won’t the kitchen be happier if it has JoJo the Rooster and his other farm friends with the rest of his art?

He refills his hands with more ink, more on his fingertips; Inojin is unstoppable as he recreates the images in his head onto the cupboards and the sink now, on a pitcher and even on the dining table. He grins when he hears the front door slide open, his Mommy’s voice ringing in the foyer. “Inojin?”

“I’m in the kitchen!”

“How has Yamato-san fallen asleep again?” She says, voice closer. “What are you doing in the kitchen, sweetie?”

What follows is something that Inojin has not anticipated. His Mommy shrieks shrilly, high-pitched that he can swear all of his neighbors in the street could have heard her. The entire Konoha, even. He closes his eyes, trying to spew the penetrating cry, wondering how his Daddy would have reacted to this. When the scream disappears, his Mommy is nearly on the floor, Babysitter Yamato breaking the fall by standing right behind her. Which hasn’t been a good idea, because now Mommy looked even more enraged.

She throws profanities at the babysitter. Inojin pulls his ears down as if it will filter her wrath. When the older man leaves, she snaps back at Inojin, eyes glaring fully, mouth twisted in a foul scowl. Daddy enjoys reading Mommy’s expression and this one means not good-must-run-away-now.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he yelps, tears at the brim of his closed lids. “I just wanted to surprise you with my art. I’m sorry, please don’t be angry, Mommy.”

Her balled fists loosen, but her features remain infuriated. Inojin gulps. “Did Daddy forget to lock up his study again?”

Inojin returns a questioned look, nodding simply. “I wanted… to do art for Mommy.” His tears start falling, afraid, shaking as his mother continues to wear a very upset gaze.

Another minute pass and she cools down, kneeling to his level, brushing the blond hair covering his eyes, and wiping the smirch across his cheek. “Kami, Inojin, you need a bath. Look at you.”

“Are you angry, Mommy?”

“At your father, yes,” she rolls her eyes, lifting the boy into her arms. Inojin knows he’s heavy, because he just turned four a month ago, but he loves his Mommy for being strong as they head for the bathroom. “Once you’re cleaned, we’ll clean the rest of the kitchen. Then Mommy won’t be angry anymore.”

Still perched in her arms, Inojin feels his cheeks hot with tears. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I thought you like art.”

She watches in regret for throwing that fit, hand instantly brushing his face. She runs water for the tub, and then carefully puts him on the floor.

She exhales. A smile graces her face, and before Inojin knows it, he’s reflecting the same expression.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”


	5. The One where Boruto meets his baby sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himawari's arrival stirred unwanted feelings of replacement in the first born.

From jumpy to confused, Boruto’s excitement over the past nine months now slowly wanes to disinterest. A scowl rests on his face as he sits next to his mother closely, eyes scrutinizing the ball of pink flesh in Hinata’s arms, quiet and asleep.

“Mother,” Boruto says to dismantle the silence. “ _It_ looks nothing like me.”

“That’s because she’s three days old,” Hinata softly responds, barely audible, cradling the baby. “Perhaps when she turns as old as you?”

“That’s impossible. I’m already four _years_ old!” Boruto says, quite confident at his logic, that in no way will this little thing be able to catch up.

“But she definitely looks like you when you were a week old,” Naruto claps a hand over his son’s shoulder, who, upon pursing his lips, squirms out of his father’s grip and exits the room, unperturbed by the eyes observing as he walks out. Attention given to him is always a bit lacking, if he says so himself, and now he has to share it with someone else too.

He passes between two people talking, Shikadai’s parents when he looks up; and then bumps into Sarada, Auntie Sakura’s midget daughter, all the while heading out into the backyard as he contemplates further the thought of everyone else’s new favorite thing.

Convinced that this is not supposedly how he should be celebrating his mother’s return from the hospital, a part of him, filled with much injustice as he may not wish to hide, impetuously decides to pick up a pebble and strike the picket fence, their pet dog scurrying away before it knows what nearly hit it. Boruto’s eyes follow the puppy, now noticing his father standing by the corner patiently awaiting him to react. The expression on his face is something that Boruto cannot read.

Naruto nears him, and before he refuses him out of defiance, Boruto makes space, shifts and watches as the towering figure sighs perceptibly.

“Boruto.”

“Am I being replaced?” He barks at once, shocking his father.

Naruto parts his lips while he and Boruto exchange similar puzzled looks, blue eyes reflecting each other. The lingering inquiry in a way confirms the younger Uzumaki’s anxiety but it is not something a single cackle from Naruto can fix. His hand ruffles the boy’s hair, before pulling him closer in a half embrace.

“What are you talking about?”

Boruto pouts, trying not to show his tears but fails anyway. “Will I stop being your favorite?”

Naruto brushes his eyes for him, a kiss immediately making its way to the boy’s forehead. Wide-eyed, Boruto gazes at his father’s wide smile. “Don’t be silly. Both of you are my favorite. But now, it won’t get lonely when Dad and Mom are out. Now you have someone to play with. To pick a fight with. To train with. To share ramen, maybe?” He chuckles still.

Sniffing Boruto looks way, rubbing the corner of his eye. “I guess it won’t be _that_ bad.”

“And you will be just like Dad,” Naruto intones. “You will want to come back home and take care of her at all cost. Watch her grow up, just like how Mom and Dad watches you too.”

The baby, as much as she’s gotten through the first five hours in complete silence, bursts into an uproar, crying at the top of her lungs echoing through the hallway. Boruto has the impulsive urge to throw again another rock but his father stands up, an arm stretched at his direction with one of those encouraging grins.

“Mom might need help with Himawari,” Naruto says. “She might want to meet her big brother now.”

For a second, Boruto considers of ignoring him but his father seems to placate the rest of his apprehension, retreating to mere nervousness again like the first time he has heard the news of having a sister.

Eagerly, he takes his father’s hand and pulls Naruto back into the house at full speed.


End file.
